


The Nameless Reaper

by kanekicure



Series: The Nameless [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew Minyard Has Feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Andrew Minyard, BAMF Neil Josten, Butcher Neil Josten, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Neil Josten, Detective Andrew Minyard, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Other, Past Child Abuse, Protective Andrew Minyard, Protective Neil Josten, Sexual Content, the boys are back and shit is still gay and dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28393710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanekicure/pseuds/kanekicure
Summary: Neil Josten thought the past and all the demons that lie with it, would stay dead.Unfortunately, he's never be a lucky person and taking control of a criminal empire is a lot harder than books makes it out to be.-Now with his crew and his partner, Andrew Minyard, Neil must fight to keep the monsters of the criminal world at bay with his newly dawned title, the Reaper.But not all of the monsters are physical and some of them aren't his own.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: The Nameless [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706071
Comments: 24
Kudos: 165





	1. Point Blank

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! The second installment of the Nameless series. I really hope you enjoy :)  
> This will be a little different then the first one, more lighter stuff as well as the addition of Andrew's family and dealing more with Andrew's past traumas. But all the usual stuff from before as well! I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Here is the playlist for this story! You can find other the songs and future songs that will be used as chapter titles there. As well as my playlist for The Nameless Monster also on my account :) Enjoy!
> 
> CW; a little violence, sexual content, and small references to Andrew's past traumas. 
> 
> Chapter Title Song; "Point Blank" by Black Math. 
> 
> [Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1DtIV1Xv4oIbD5fV1xCm4H?si=-_nBdDv1QSyvHhtuRnyaXQ)

From the ashes of the Butcher and his empire, a new one arose.

The Reaper. 

A man clad in black, that comes and does his business in the cover of night and without the flashy materials of the crime life. Daggers, curved, black, and quick. The bodies of his victims are only found if he bids for them too.

Word travels by the whispers in the streets, the ghosts of the dead and the message their lives will send. 

Regret is not something a man like this knows. 

Wronged and broken, the reaper picks out their helpless pleds for revenge.

A name, a target, a rightful death.

Some people know who it is, behind the mask, but they all know him by a different name.

They all know he came after the Butcher - some say Nathan Wesninski was the Reaper’s first victim. 

Others say that he is the splitting image of the Butcher himself.

Smarter people, however, know that he is the consequence of the Butcher’s rule. 

  
  


* * *

**_Four Months Later_ **

Andrew Minyard, sometimes (most of the time), hated his job. 

And he also hated rich people. 

This is why, right now, Andrew has been assigned the worst possible task for someone like him to be assigned. Listening to the muffled voices of people in the building behind his back, voices amplified by the microphone and speakers lining every wall as some entitled asshole talks about how much money he’s making. 

The Reynolds family are rich alright, and they like to make sure everyone is aware of the fact.

A red carpet leads the way into the rented out mansion, the flashing lights of photographers - some paid, others here on their own violation - blind any passerby’s vision. Reporters talk into their microphones, cameras catching new people who make their way out of the vehicles that pull up. Men and women, dressed to perfection, with the best dresses and suits money can buy. They walk the carpet like they’re someone relevant, like they’re someone who could make any difference in this world except hoarding their money while others suffer.

Gritting his teeth, Andrew holds himself in position, refusing to let his head thunk on the cement wall behind him - no matter how much he wants too. 

An entire police force - for a bunch of rich people who want to get drunk together and brag about how great they are. 

To his left is Renee. She holds her post with a smile, checking the ID of each guest and nodding them through. No one wants to go to Andrew, who stands at his post with dead eyes, and a hand resting on his gun, a threat to anyone who wants to try something or is thinking of it. 

The Reynolds are at least smart enough to be aware of the sizable threat hosting this get together is. The chances of someone attempting _anything_ is too high to be comfortable with. 

At the very least, Neil, his… partner - has assured him that nothing was suppose to occur, while also trying to puppy dog eye his way into being allowed on a mission this high risk. Big blue eyes were surprisingly difficult to say no too, but the rest of the precinct held its ground. 

“You’re still only a consultant, there would be no reason for you to be there.” Andrew said, trying to ignore the burning stare from beside him. 

Neil had huffed, “But I can fight! I’m not useless.” 

“We want the world to _not_ know who you are, Josten. A civilian consultant busting out martial art moves when there is already enough suspicion on you, would be weird. You can’t go,” Wymack warned from behind his desk and that was that. 

Neil nearly crumpled at the words, pouting the entire ride home and even going as far as to avoid Andrew’s kiss once they got inside, mumbling something about going to have a nap and calling Allison. 

Though the man finally gave in when Andrew rolled over in their bed and whispered ‘ _yes or no’_ into his ear. The tension and pouting lip disappearing at the feeling of Andrew’s breath on his neck, and a murmured yes in response.

That was a nice night. 

“Are you going to check this,” a snobby voice speaks out, breaking Andrew from his rather pleasant thoughts. Glowering, Andrew realizes that thinking of his stupid Neil made him look approachable. 

Grunting, he grabs the ID from the blond man, glances down at it, before shoving it back into his hand and waving a dismissive gesture behind himself. 

“What terrible service,” the man mutters, eyes narrowing at Andrew before glancing down. “What are you, a bodyguard? What’s your name?” 

Andrew looks down at the words _POLICE_ printed to his jacket that’s hung over his fitted suit. He raises an eyebrow, looking back at the man - he already fucking hated wearing this bullshit, stripping him from his usual armour. At least his gun is still on his hip, and maybe a few knives that his partner gifted him, were also shoved up his pant leg.

“Sir!” Renee’s pleasant voice chirps in, “I can take you over here.” 

God, Renee still is his fucking saviour at these things. The blond’s eyebrows shoot up, as if to tell Andrew that _that_ was how he was supposed to be acting, before sticking his chin up and marching over to Renee’s soft smile. 

If only that man saw the way her smile didn’t reach her eyes, or how her jaw clenched when she had to force that peachy look on her face - then maybe he wouldn’t have been so eager. 

_Whatever,_ Andrew focuses his eyes forward again. He has three more hours, and then he can go home, see his cat, see Neil, hold Neil, perhaps kiss Neil and then go to fucking bed.

Andrew watches the last car finally pull out of the lot, and he cracks his back, prepared to go back inside and ignore everyone - when another limo pulls up to the edge of the curb. Reporters swivel around again, flashing cameras blinding him and Andrew really almost _does_ let his head drop in exasperation.

_Fuck off._

And then the shouting begins

Because the driver has opened the door, bowed his head and Allison Reynolds walks out of it. Long tanned legs, skin tight red dress, covered in glitter that catches on every flash of the frantic cameras, blonde hair cascading down her shoulder in perfect ringlets as black manicured nails tap along her chauffeur’s shoulder with a lazy grin.

The thing is, Allison Reynolds shouldn’t be here. Being the disowned daughter of the Reynolds family, who somehow still managed to keep her name and her wealth even without her family's support. She makes the media lose their fucking heads at the mention of her name. 

She shouldn’t be here, but she is - and if she is here. 

Then so is someone else.

Time seems to slow on cue as another pair of legs follow Allison out, clad in black from his shoes, to his dress pants and vest - covering his deep red dress-shirt which matches Allison’s dress - that only adds to the way his auburn hair looks like fire against the flashing white lights. 

Probably armed to a tee under that, with daggers and knives alike - with hands that could bring death without a thought. 

But no one knows that but Andrew.

Blue eyes seem to sparkle as Neil, Abram, _Nathaniel_ , who ever the fuck, Josten, stands beside Allison and wraps an arm around her waist. He might be shorter than her, but no one can notice; both of their presences are too large. Both of their smiles are ones made for the kill. 

They move down the red carpet as reporters and press stumble over each other, yelling out questions as Allison walks with dark eyes. Her smirk makes Andrew nervous, but he can’t take his eyes off Neil, who is staring directly at him. 

God, ice blue fucking burns as he walks, a lazy smirk and a raised eyebrow as they come closer. Andrew can already fucking smell him, he knows exactly what cologne the fucker has put on. 

“Why hello, officers,” Allison purrs, making her way over to Renee. She reaches a hand out and places it on Renee’s shoulder as she glances up and down. “You look too pretty to be working out here tonight.” 

Renee’s face is drenched in scarlet, as she swallows - Andrew hasn’t seen her lose composure like this before. But Andrew doesn’t have time to care about that, his entire focus is being swallowed by the man coming to stand in front of him. 

He was right, Neil wore the fucking cologne. 

“Officer,” Neil coos, “You do look rather handsome tonight.” 

Andrew swallows around the lump in this throat and fights back the urge to grab Neil right here and now. 

“ID,” he grits and Neil laughs, it’s soft and his eyes twinkle as he takes one last look at Andrew before pulling at his wallet. He hands over the ID carefully, but Andrew makes sure to brush their fingers together before he pulls away. 

“Careful with that one, it’s new.” 

The words are spoken so closely to his ear that Andrew has to hold back the shudder threatening to dance along his body. Eyes barely even looking at the ID in his hand as he reaches forward and grabs Neil by the wrist and pulls him in. 

“What are you up to?” he hisses, not even trying to keep the heat out of his voice. He wants Neil to know how much he’s affecting him.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Neil breathes back, letting his breath kiss Andrew’s ears. “Am I free to go?”

With much reluctance, he let’s Neil go. He simply steps back and meets Andrew’s eyes, winking once before moving to walk past him.

But before he can make it far, he pauses, placing a hand on Andrew’s shoulder - a spot that he’s allowed to touch - and leans in. 

“Oh, and Officer?” he purrs, “I just want to thank you for your service, you know, if you wanted to meet me in the west wing.” 

Then he’s gone. 

Andrew barely has time to process what has happened before Renee has a hand covering her mouth, her eyes shining as she looks over at Andrew before she starts giggling. 

Andrew scoffs - _fucking rich people._

* * *

Neil Josten, will truly never, ever, get tired of kissing Andrew Minyard. 

_Especially_ when it’s like this.

The hard wooden door behind him is rough on his back as Andrew slides his hands under Neil’s thighs and hosists him up so he can wrap his legs around Andrew’s back. Neil roughly pulls Andrew’s lips back to his, sliding together as Andrew pushes his tongue into his mouth, both of them pressing up against the other. 

“You fucking little shit,” Andrew gasps into his ear, mouth returning to biting and sucking at his neck - earpiece hanging uselessly over his shoulder. Neil bites back a moan, fingers scrambling to unbutton the top of Andrew’s dress shirt and revealing his collarbones. Old hickies that have begun to fade rest there, but he’s moving forward to refresh them - maybe they still are in the honeymoon stage or whatever Matt calls it, Neil thinks it’s deserved. 

“How long till your break is done?” Neil mumbles against Andrew’s neck, feeling the other wrap his fingers into his hair and pull him back. “How long do we have?” 

Andrew pulls one arm up, using only one to support Neil’s weight, to check his watch. “Ten minutes.” 

Neil smirks, lidding his eyes. “Perfect, plenty of time.” 

“Bold words, Josten,” Andrew whispers back, sounding more put together then Neil, but the flush already spreading to his chest, speaks differently. Neil let’s his legs slide off Andrew’s back so he can begin sinking to the ground, placing his hand on Andrew’s chest as he goes. 

“Still a yes?” Neil asks, “I think I promised to show my thanks to the officer.” 

Andrew curses, placing a hand on the wall and the other in Neil’s hair, meeting his eyes. “Fucking hell, Neil, _yes._ ” 

Neil grins, curling a hand in the edge of Andrew’s belt as he pulls it loose, enjoying the sounds of the quiet rattle as he begins popping the button open and unzipping the dress pants. 

“Watch me do it in five,” he whispers and is about to pull Andrew’s pants down when the static from Andrew’s earpiece starts going off, rough voices coming through.

Then in Neil’s own, Charles breaks through the line.

_“Target heading down the west wing, Nate do you copy?”_

Neil groans, head thunding harshly on the wall behind him as Andrew looks down at him and raises his eyebrows. 

“Thought you weren’t up to anything?” 

Neil sighs, regrettably, buttoning up Andrew’s pants for him and clambering to his feet with Andrew’s help. “I _thought_ I wasn’t.” 

“You thought?” 

More static voices come from Andrew’s headpiece but both ignore it in favour of Neil shoving his face into Andrew’s neck. Feeling Andrew’s fingers curl around the base of his head and toy with the curls he finds there. Everything settles in Neil, here, quiet in his partners arms and he’s about to suggest they just ditch this entire place all together so they could be alone when Neil catches what the voices are saying this time they come through.

 _“Minyard! Where the fuck are you?_ ” A gruff voice is yelling, _“Fucking answer me before I fire your short ass.”_

“I think Wymack is looking for you,” Neil murmurs into Andrew’s neck, who snorts in return, reaching over and taking the earpiece and shoving it into his ear.

“Mm, that so? Watch this,” he says, before pressing down on the small device to activate his mic “On break,” he says, while reaching over and tracing Neil’s scar on his cheek idly. 

On cue, Neil’s earpiece cracks before the static and Charles' voice is yelling into his ear, _“Nate! West wing! Our target’s slipping off, where are you located!”_

Wymack’s voice filters overtop, _“What in the ever loving fuck are you doing on break right now!”_

“Eating.” 

More static, and the annoying beeping of someone else jumping onto the line comes through - then the distinct sound of Seth’s snickers appear, “ _Oh yeah, Chief, I’m sure he’s eating good right now. I saw what a fucking snack Josten is tonight.”_

Andrew glares at the wall in annoyance.

_“Get off the line, Gordon! And Minyard, you better tell your boyfriend to keep his hands off of this, this place stinks of bad shit.”_

Neil’s earpiece cracks to life again, _“Nate you useless piece of shit, I know you’re mad at me for the last time I ignored you on the radio but come on!”_

“It’s like no one trusts me,” Neil says, faking offence, and Andrew rolls his eyes. 

“ _Josten? Did I just hear you? Who was that? Minyard put him on!”_

Andrew raises his eyebrows at him, reaching up to pull the earpiece out but Neil kisses him on the neck before pulling away and winking at him. Pressing a finger to his lips in a mock tell to be silent, Andrew stares blankly then nodded at him before miming zipping his lips and locking the key.

_“Nate, target is far west, stopping fucking your cop boyfriend and help us - goddamn it - Allison!”_

Charles’s voice cuts off.

Moving away, Neil presses himself to the door of the guest room he and Andrew stumbled into earlier after Neil stole him off of his lunch break to go find a lockable room. 

Crouching slightly, with his ear against the wall, he begins counting down from five. 

_“Jesus christ, Minyard, come on. You can finish your break later.”_

_Four._

“Renee told me I could go.” 

_Three._

_“Wha- okay well... Walker is saying that she did, but! That isn’t a reason to go suck face with your boyfriend!”_

_Two_

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” 

_“Are you fuckin-”_

_One._

With all of his might, Neil unlocks the door and swings it open as hard as he can muster, feeling the wood bound off a hard moving object with a sickening crunch and shout of surprise. Behind him he hears Andrew whistle under his breath. 

Neil, in his best acting effort, flies his hands to his mouth, pulling the door back to reveal a man wearing an overly expensive suit with one large backpack hanging over his shoulder that he drops to the floor in order to clutch at his face.

_Bingo._

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! What the fuck is your fucking problem!” The man sputters, blood running through the cracks in his fingers, Neil startles, grasping onto the strangers shoulder in order to keep him standing straight.

“Oh my god! I’m _so_ sorry, I’m _such_ a klutz! So sorry, here let me-” Neil reaches out, maybe to help dab the blood away with the handkerchief he snatched from the man’s suit - but when the man glares at him in anger, Neil turns his cradling hand into a fist and swings.

_THWACK!_

Andrew comes out of the room as soon as the man hits the floor with a muffled groan, his hazel eyes flicking down in distaste. 

“He’s still awake,” he says.

“Reaper,” the rich man hisses, body still plastered to the floor, eyes sealed shut as he cradles his now _definitely_ broken nose - while also trying to find his balance.

Neil tuts in agreement with his partner, “I always have sucked at close distance punches.” 

Andrew hums, “I can see that.”

The man on the floor makes a noise of surprise when he hears Andrew this time, turning and spotting the black vested man with the word - _Police_ sprawled across the back. 

“Fuck! Dude no, you gotta-” he starts, eyes wild and dazed as he throws his bloody hand out, grasping for Andrew’s pant leg.

Andrew blinks slowly in response.

The man doesn’t give up, “ _Officer_ , you’re one of the bodyguards right? This man isn’t who he says he is, I’m telling you. He’s a very bad man, you saw right? He punched me, and that’s not all-”

The man falters when Andrew finally kicks off his hand with a scowl, desperate eyes flick up to meet Andrew who only begins walking in the opposite direction.

“I’m on break.” 

The man begins to shout but Neil already beats him to it with a swift kick to the head, this time the man slumps completely to the floor, finally, unconscious. 

“Target captured, west wing. Bag secured, pull out,” Neil says into his mic, leaning down to the unmoving body.

He had a hunch earlier, one completely born out of watching the second level security the Reynolds family had dragged in. He pulls back the collar of the man’s suit and spots the wiring - he snags the hidden earpiece with a quiet curse. The words Neil had just spoken, are repeated back to him.

Neil presses down on its mic with a sigh, “Next time, Charles, make it harder for the bad guys to hack into our comm system.”

 _“Oh… that’s my bad.”_ Charles’ sheepish voice comes through.

Reaching into the other pocket, he pulls out another earpiece, this one suspiciously curved like the one Andrew had attached to his own jacket.

Neil sighs, this probably wouldn’t be good. Another breach - one too close to his home too.

“Hey Wymack!” Neil forces a grin on his face, as he speaks into the mic, “Body on the west wing, still breathing, unconscious for unknown reasons.” 

“ _Josten, I swear to fucking god-”_

-

He finds Andrew later, forced by Wymack to return to his post against the back wall of the ballroom. His jacket is nowhere to be seen, and he’s rolled up his grey undershirt. Neil eyes him for a moment before returning to Allison’s side.

“Nate,” she smiles, hand shooting out to grip his hand. Neil can see the tension in her jaw, the slight tremble to her lips - being around her parents again isn’t pleasant for her either. Years of being nothing more than a ploy for more media attention does ruin someone's perception of parental love. 

“You talk to them?” he asks, letting Allison lean back into him, sipping her drink idly. 

“No,” she says, “And I’m not going to. Did you get it?”

Neil nods, “Yeah, you were right, it’s drugs. Charles is testing them right now.” 

“Fuck,” Allison breathes, “I never thought they’d go that far. How bad do you think it is?” 

“Duffle bag worth of shit? I’d say they put this entire party thing together for a cover up of the sales and the money coming in. Put it off to charity or some shit.”

Allison inhales sharply, slamming her glass onto the table. Neil can read the tension throughout her like a book. “What do I do, Nate? My parents aren’t supposed to be getting involved in his shit, fuck they never… I don’t get it.”

“We’ll figure it out, okay? There is someone else in this variable, another group, I’d say someone with a larger hold than we do. So we figure out who they are, and go from there.” Neil squeezes Allison’s hand, “At least we know.”

Allison glances over, her eyebrows pinched in frustration but she offers a small smile, “Yeah, I guess.” She leans forward and kisses his cheek, while squeezing the other one. “Thanks for being the best fake date ever. Now you should probably go entertain your actual man while I go piss off my parents by ruining their party and talking shit to the media.” 

Neil chokes on a laugh, pushing her away. “Just be safe, Al. Call me if you need anything.”

Her smile is sad, but she smiles nonetheless. Neil wants to stay and double check, but Allison is already ducking away, a beaming smirk on her face plastering over every other emotion. It’s something she always did well. Neil could never forget how fucked up Allison had been when she had first arrived on the Butcher’s doorstep.

He watches her go, unsure, but she falls back into her element under the cameras and flashing lights. Smiling, waving and flirting with the media, speaking words like silk and unable to be kicked out by the fuming parents that stand only meters away. He supposes that’s what they get for stating that they would ‘always welcome their baby girl back with open arms, no matter what’. 

Neil wrinkles his nose, he fucking hates rich people. 

“You got a result for me, Charles?” Neil murmures into his microphone when he escapes the crowd to the sidelines. 

A moment of static before Charles’ voice comes through, _“Nope, sorry boss. Nothing but a lot of white and blue powder - it ain’t ringing any bells for me either. You really think an entirely new gang is selling this shit?”_

Neil sighs, “It’s a working theory, I don’t think that man was working for the Reynolds anyways. So someone else is getting involved with this and isn’t us or the police.” 

_“Then who else would have the fucking balls to get snobby, rich, white people to be their sales pitchers? Can’t be some little fucking pea gang.”_

“That’s what I want to find out, especially if they are doing it on my turf,” Neil grumbles. Any crimes, especially drug related, would be slapped directly onto Neil’s responsibility and he would have to deal with the fallout.

However, Charles doesn’t see it like that, judging by the laughter coming through, _“Look at you! Acting like a real mob boss, how far you’ve come, Nate.”_

Neil rolls his eyes, before disconnecting his link and pulling his ear piece out. He would have to wait all night to get the results anyways, no point stressing about it now. 

“Sounds to me, like you’re talking about some really shady shit over here huh?” A familiar voice drawls behind him and Neil’s eyes flash up. 

_Oh, hello._

Turning, Neil comes face to face with the blond detective who takes up most of his mind. Grinning, he leans against the wall, “Why hello there officer, didn’t anyone tell you that eavesdropping is rude?” 

Andrew scoffs, “That’s detective to you.” 

“Mmm, Detective Minyard, I do like it,” Neil amends and Andrew rolls his eyes, coming to lean on the wall beside him, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“What did I hear about some drug trade? Something I should be worried about?” he asks, hazel eyes peering over at Neil, who can only offer a small shrug.

“I hope not, it’s just work stuff. I’ll talk to you about it at home.” 

Andrew hums his confirmation but pauses when the lights of the ballroom suddenly dim to a deep red, his face immediately spinning to look at his partner in accusation.

Neil grins. 

_Looks like Ally is going to have some fun tonight after all._

“Hello everyone!” A bright and cheery Allison Reynolds yells over the mic system, her voice echoing off the walls. Cheers erupt from the crowd of people - Allison’s own special moles she had implemented just the night before. 

“Oh jesus christ,” Andrew mutters next to him. 

“You guys want some fun music instead of this boring shit? My ma and my pa agree that it’s out with the old and in with the new! That reminds me? Congrats on the new little girl! Can’t wait to meet my little sister, I’m sure she’s adorable.”

More cheering breaks through, as well as disgruntled noises from the regular guests. Angry middle aged women and men begin breaking out of the crowd, but are pulled back in by other passerbys. 

Allison’s comment must also sting deep to the Reynolds family who are now standing up from their seats, Neil can just make them out from their position in the room. 

But they can’t do shit.

Not without going back on their word, not without Allison exposing them like they all know she will with the microphone in hand and a wicked gleam in her eyes.

The newest Reynolds daughter is barely older than four, and he knows it had cut Allison deep once she found out. He supposed some form of petty revenge should be in order for her.

The heavy bass of new music starts coming through the speakers, Neil turns to Andrew who is still staring blankly at the stage where Allison stands at the front of the room. 

“What do ya think? Wanna dance?” 

Andrew slides his gaze over slowly, “You know, for being a mob boss, this isn’t very threatening.” 

Neil beams, “Mission accomplished then,” he stretches out his hand and raises an eyebrow, “I do believe that you have a well deserved break to finish.” 

Waiting a beat, Andrew holds his gaze, before reaching out and taking Neil’s hand. Grinning, he pulls his partner after him with a laugh on his lips, spinning around to catch Andrew. 

The music is heavy, the lights painting Andrew’s face in the harsh red but his eyes still seem to glimmer through it, silent amusement shining through.

He pulls Andrew to him, taking the lead and wrapping a hand around Andrew’s waist. Around him, even some of the other regular guests to the ball seem to have sunk into it, unsure eyes shift around but with a small bop in their steps.

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen, you know Josten?” Andrew huffs by his ear, “A mob boss and his accomplice crash a party for rich people.” 

“You forgot about the partner on the other side.” Neil teases, “ _Detective_ Minyard.”

Andrew shakes his head, but he still follows Neil’s lead. They aren’t dancing seriously, but still, it’s nice to have his hands on Andrew, even Wymack who is resting against the south wall is giving them a fond smile. 

Glancing back, Andrew is watching him. Warm hazel eyes are searching for something, and Neil hopes they find it, squeezing Andrew’s hand in lul of a response. 

“You know,” Andrew begins, “My shift ended when I walked up to you back there.” 

The glint in his expression speaks for itself, but the words still send a quick jolt through Neil. The unfinished feeling from their expade earlier comes back in full as he intertwines their fingers together and begins tugging Andrew towards the exit.

“Why didn’t you say so? Lets fucking get out of here.” 

* * *

Andrew still doesn’t know how Neil keeps surprising him.

Running down the hallway, holding hands with his partner with the distant sound of media shouting, family feud being brought to life and an impromptu dance party at a party for snobs behind him, he still feels it hit. 

One would think a party being crashed by the mob would end in death, but somehow, Neil has to be different. 

He’s always been different. 

By the time they make it home to _their_ small apartment, Neil is latched around Andrew’s neck. Frantic kisses being pressed, as Andrew clutches at his waist. 

“Open the door, open the door - oh my god, Andrew!” Neil laughs into Andrew’s neck, clinging onto the front of his jacket as Andrew tries valiantly to unlock the door with only one hand and facing the other direction. He probably didn’t think it through, but it was hard when he had Neil Josten clinging off of him and kissing down his neck. 

“I’m trying, you Junkie,” He hisses, finally managing to slip his key into the lock and clicking the apartment door open. Both of them stagger through and Neil kicks it closed behind them, leaning back to click the lock shut again with a wink.

An impatient meow echoes behind them, and Andrew feels King come and brush up alongside his legs, before turning to Neil who is dropping to his knees to make kissy noise to get King closer.

“If I knew you were going to ignore me for the cat, I would have stopped kissing you at the door.” Andrew scoffs, but he can feel the muscles in his cheek twitch. Neil peers up at him, from his place on the floor and shrugs. 

“Fight for my attention then Minyard, look King even gives me kisses.” Neil says, motioning with his head towards the scrappy cat that was currently licking at one of Neil’s scars on his hand.

“Get up and see what I have to offer.” 

Neil shoots a shit eating grin up at him, before pressing one last kiss to Sir’s forehead and standing up, leaning back into Andrew’s space. Hot breath dances across his lips before he’s ducking back into the kiss. He wraps his arms around Neil’s, pulling him with him as he begins to stagger backwards, praying King didn’t decide to make a sudden roadblock. He makes it about halfway until he realizes he’s moving blind now, he pulls away from Neil to watch those blue eyes open and stare in their kiss filled daze. 

One step forward, Andrew takes one back, the two working together in tangent as Andrew discards his jacket and Neil undoes his tie. Both of their eyes hungrily taking each other in, as Andrew makes quick work of unbuttoning his shit and Neil practically tears his off in a hast. 

“That’s like a hundred dollar shirt,” Andrew comments dryly and Neil glances up at him from where he was hopping around in an attempt to take his dress shoes off. 

“Allison won’t let me wear it again anyways,” he amends, keeping his socks on like a heathen.

Andrew’s hands fly down to his belt, moving to unbuckling it and freezing. _He never asked._ For a second, terror floods through him, he had just been so caught up in the moment he hadn’t even thought of it. Everything about Neil screamed that he wanted this but Andrew should know better, he should know to never ever-

“It’s a yes, ‘drew,'' Neil's soft voice interrupts him, blue eyes searching Andrew with that small glimmer of concern in them. “What about you? Yes or no?” 

Andrew inhales a shaky breath, feeling Neil step forward and entangle their fingers together. His warm palms spread over Andrew’s always cold ones and he feels the panic leave him with his next movement. 

“Yes, it’s a yes.” He pulls Neil to him greediedly, craving the auburn man be closer. His chest stutters with his next breath when the back of knees bump into the couch. 

Both of them glance down at it, it was Andrew’s original destination in mind. Neil hums quietly under his breath, moving a hand up to cup Andrew’s face. 

“Can I straddle you?” he asks, and Andrew is nodding, sinking to sit down and Neil follows him. 

Somehow, Neil managed to ditch his dress pants as well, blue boxer briefs pulling taunt against his muscular thighs. Andrew’s mouth goes dry as he runs his hands along them, tracing the scars he finds on the path to cupping Neil’s butt. 

“Mmm,” Neil says, tilting his head back with eyes closed, “Missed you today.” 

“You saw me plenty,” Andrew replies, “Or did I hallucinate the whole sneaking away to an empty bedroom thing?” 

Neil huffs out a laugh, moving forward to press their foreheads together. “You know what I mean, I don’t like being on the different team without you.” 

Andrew leans forward to kiss his nose, taking great pleasure in watching him scrunch it up.

“We’re always on the same team, Abram.” He whispers, before beginning to kiss down Neil’s neck. 

He feels the other shiver, and Andrew knows it's because of the name. They began trying it a month into their… _relationship,_ when Neil wouldn’t respond to his name during an episode he had after a nightmare. After that, it sort of just… stuck. In a way, Andrew thought it helped Neil keep the pieces of his identity close and sane, as well as a reassurance that Andrew wanted all of him - not just _Neil._

Andrew doesn’t use Nathaniel though, never. 

Neil’s breath keeps catching next to Andrew’s ear as he curls his arms around his shoulders. Blue eyes fluttering open to watch Andrew roam the expanse of his chest with harsh and gentle kisses, covering each scar he finds. 

“What do you want?” Neil asks, breathlessly above him. “Do you want to fuck me?” 

Andrew groans quietly, head pressing to Neil’s chest and hands grabbing at his back. 

“I- I want too.” He begins but he can feel the heavy press of _something_ still not great against his chest, it’s something he needs to take into consideration but the burning presence of Neil was calling to him. “I don’t think I can do... penetration tonight. I’m sorr-”

Neil cuts him off with a finger to his lips, ducking his head to come into Andrew’s view with a soft smile. “No apologies, you idiot. It’s okay, do you want to stop?” 

“No,” Andrew says hastily, “Everything else is okay, just… not that.” 

The grin Neil wears morphs into a smirk as he stares down at Andrew, placing both hands on his chest as he lightly rolls his hips. 

“Okay,” he says, before sliding down to unbutton Andrew’s pants. 

Something Andrew forgot, that while he was always willing to stay beside Neil, no matter the demons that came for him at night or during the day, it was the same for Neil. He remembers the first time Andrew had been triggered durning sex, how Neil had carefully wrapped him in a sheet and stayed close but never touched him unless he asked for it. How Neil still checks, how he can be completely consumed in lust and want and snap out of it the moment Andrew feels his own demons cling to his skin. 

Andrew had been so used to being alone, to being left, to disappointing, that the fact he had someone who continually disproved him daily, it still took getting used to.

“Wanna be close to you.” Andrew says, once Neil had successfully removed his pants. He didn’t mean to say it out loud, but the fact held true. Sure, a blowjob would be great but something greater in him craves to hold Neil’s face in his hands while they climbed that high together. 

Neil's face softens almost completely, before he’s climbing back into Andrew’s lap. “Okay, I do too.” He nips Andrew’s ear as he shimmies his hands down his chest and rests them at the waistband of his boxers. “Can I go against you?”

“Yes, fuck.” 

With that, Neil pulls them both out of their underwear, pressing them against each other. Ducking down, he kisses Andrew and any noises he might have made, away. Gently rocking his hips forward and sighing against the others lips, the couch creaking under them. 

Planting his free hand on the top of the sofa, Neil sagged forward and kept moving, taking them quicker then Andrew had expected. He groans, head thumping back and exposing his neck to Neil’s relentless neck fetish. 

“Is this okay?” Neil asks between a heavy breath. Andrew nods, bucking his hips up too and jostling the man on top of him.

Neil laughs, like he always is when they have sex. Andrew is addicted to it. It’s the most raw and real form of Neil he knows, that he had the privilege of hearing. 

Andrew holds Neil closer to him at the thought, turning his face to bury it in between the crook of where Neil’s neck meets his shoulder. Inhaling the smell of the other, enjoying every quiet noise that slips out and even letting his own come. 

“Oh, shit, shit, shit, Andrew - I’m not-” Neil babbles, hand tightening as he loses his rhythm completely. Andrew in turn, kisses his neck, running his hand up his back and wrapping it around the base of Neil’s neck to turn his face into a harsh kiss. 

That’s all it takes for Neil, and watching his partner’s face completely crumble into pleasure is all he needs to follow. Gasping out as he cradles Neil to him, body trembling at the rush of emotions that keep clashing into him. 

The moment they finish though, Neil is moving to get off of Andrew’s lap. He knows that it’s probably for Andrew, but right now he doesn’t want to lose Neil’s warmth yet, so he holds on tighter, and pulls him back. 

“Stay,” Andrew says, and he can feel Neil’s smile against his skin.

“You know I always will.” 

Andrew is about to flick the bastard's nose and call him out for being a cheesy piece of shit when a quiet meow comes from the chair adjacent to the couch. Neil’s head flies up, face morphing in horror as he turns and makes eye contact with King, who has begun grooming herself.

“Oh my god, Andrew, we just had sex in front of King. Oh my god, oh my _god_ , we are terrible people.” Neil begins, his face flushing crimson. 

Andrew rolls his eyes, “She’s a cat Neil, she has no idea what’s going on.” 

Neil spins onto him again, “But what if she does!” 

“Then she knows I’ve watched her lick her asshole for two years and had to listen to her try to fuck the neighbours cat before I could get her fixed.” 

One hand covers Neil’s mouth, his eyes wide as saucers, Andrew wants to shake him because he just totally ruined a perfectly fine afterglow. But he also can’t help but let the sides of his lips quirk up, shaking his head. 

“She’s just a cat,” Andrew repeats, and Neil’s shoulders relax slightly.

Andrew thinks Neil is getting over it slowly, until he gasps again, hand slapping right back onto his mouth as he whispers in horror.

“She can see my butt.”

“ _Neil._ ”


	2. Can I Exist?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil Josten just wants to be Neil Josten, he's sick of still being Nathaniel Wesninski too. Andrew Minyard just wants to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE WAIT. I'm a full time university student as well as writing a stupid amount of other things but I promise to try and get chapters out to the best of my abilities! 
> 
> cw; all of the triggers about Neil's past and sexual content (that isn't really smutty though?)
> 
> chapter title song; 'Can I Exist' by MISSIO
> 
> you can find the complete playlist of this story [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1DtIV1Xv4oIbD5fV1xCm4H?si=Rjhz7EQSR96U7k7xdC0iNg)
> 
> enjoy!!! :)

_ Buzz _

_ Buzz, buzz _

_ Buzzzzzzzzzz _

“Andrew?”

_ Buzz, buzz, buzz. _

“Andrew turn off your alarm.” 

“Mmnmm.”

_ Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz _

“Andrew.” 

“...mhm,”

_ Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz _

“Jesus fucking christ, fine! I’ll do it myself.” 

Neil shoves himself out of the warm cocoon of blankets he has woken in. Grumbling, he lifts Andrew’s arm that had been thrown over his stomach and lets it slap back down to the sheets. He almost makes it to his feet, before the previously lifeless body next to him, suddenly snatches the back of his sleep shirt and hauls him back down. Arms, strong and persistent, come to wrap around Neil’s torso as a face is nuzzled into his back with more inaudible words mumbled into it. Reaching as far as he can, he manages to press the blaring  _ END  _ button. 

“ _ Andrew _ ,” Neil whines when the other doesn’t move, “I don’t wanna get up either but we already snoozed the alarm once.” 

The arms around him only tighten in response and Neil sighs, deflating a little and lets himself be manhandled back into the optimal cuddling position to a sleepy Andrew.

“Not important,” he slurs. The first real words Neil can understand since he’d been woken up by the insistent buzzing on Andrew’s bedside table.

Neil turns his head to nuzzle into the warm skin of Andrew’s chest, a small sigh escaping his lips as Andrew begins threading his fingers through his hair slowly. He peers one eye out to catch the half lidded hazel ones looking down at him, face still softened from a sleep undisturbed by nightmares. 

“You’re going to get us fired, you know?” Neil accused, but is unable to keep the warmth out of his tone. 

Andrew shrugs lazily, “I’ll just join the mob,” he amends, “I heard they pay well.” 

“Keep up that attitude and they’ll fire you too.” 

“That’s fine,” the blond murmurs, eyes sliding shut again as he begins drifting back to sleep. Neil tries to squirm for a moment, but the arms around him flex and hold him tighter - and… if Neil really  _ wanted _ to get out he could. 

Valiantly though, in the name of his job, he decides to try again; weakly and muffled by his partner’s stomach, “ _ Andrew _ , we have to go to work.” 

“You’re the criminal, live on the edge a little bit.” 

Neil sighs, long and loud to let Andrew know how insufferable he’s being, but he has to agree.

Besides there really isn’t anything nicer than this, feeling Andrew’s fingers slowly card through his hair, their movement growing slower as he falls more into his slumber. The slow rise and fall of his stomach, the warmth coming from it bare beneath Neil’s cheek, the soft reminder of the night before, or getting to have this, have  _ him,  _ everyday of Neil’s life. 

And after everything that both Neil and Andrew’s life gave them before, and gave them together, he thinks they deserve this.

So, who cares about work? They can be ten minutes late.

-

They were more than ten minutes late.

“Where in the ever loving fuck have you two been?” Wymack asks from the front of the precinct room, the white board covered in a sprawl of different notes and photos; if Neil squints, he can guess they have to do with last night’s case and he already doesn’t want to have to deal with it.

Andrew sips at his overly expensive coffee loudly before shrugging and making his way to their desks. Neil goes to follow, but Wymack snaps his fingers to draw Neil’s attention back to him, eyes boring in accusation.

Neil hesitates, wringing his fingers together, “Um, we were just-”

“Fucking?” Seth asks, from his desk. He snickers when Neil’s face blooms into a deep red as he sputters to argue back.

“We were not! We just slept in, you nosey prick.” 

“Oh so you were so enthralled in your hot passionate forbidden love making and lost track of time? Had to play catch up?” Another voice joins the fray, the loud squeak of an office chair brings Neil’s eyes over to watch Allison roll her chair to face him. She too, holds an overly expensive coffee cup in hand with her feet propped up into Renee’s lap.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Neil asks, not even addressing the tease, “You’re supposed to be taking Mads to enroll her into school in-” he checks his watch subtly, “twenty minutes.”

“Bee is taking her, she’s her guardian right now, not us.” 

Neil’s frown deepened, “That wasn’t the plan.” 

Allison sighs, “Sometimes your plans aren’t very well thought out Nate.” 

Neil opens his mouth to argue but Wymack hits the white board behind himself impatiently, “Discuss your side hustle without me present please and thank you Josten, now go sit down and try to remind yourself and your partner that you both have  _ jobs  _ that you want to  _ keep.” _

Properly scolded, Neil turns and makes his way over to Andrew - ignoring Seth’s wolf whistle and the cheeky look Dan and Matt pass between themselves. He sits on his newly upgraded spinny chair, and glares at Andrew across him in his best  _ I told you so,  _ look that he can muster.

_ ‘Still not fired,’  _ Andrew mouths across the desk and Neil huffs, rolling his eyes while turning his focus back to the board. 

There’s an array of photos on the wall, all of them are people Neil doesn’t know and doesn’t particularly care to know. He plans to zone out and worry about it later since he won’t be of much use besides at night when he  _ isn’t  _ Neil Josten. 

“So, since the rest of us finally decided to  _ show up.  _ I can start this shit show because usually, we would all be beginning our case on the robbery at the Reynolds banquet last night. But, due to circumstances that I had foreseen, two of you will be reassigned.” Wymack drawls, like his next sentence isn’t surprising, “Neil and Andrew, you can forget about this case for now.”

Neil perks up, turning quickly to glance over. Maybe this will be something he could actually help with - a change from his other life - normal police shit. 

“But why Chief?” Dan asks, “Neil and Andrew were the main ones on scene.” 

Wymack sighs, “Yes, I know. But we have more urgent matters to attend to, besides, we can get their write ups later and then stick the rookies on the case too when they come in on Monday again.” 

Dan smiles at that while Seth makes a face, Neil agrees, he also dislikes the rookies. Mostly because Jack is fucking annoying.

“And Dan, I’ll need you to head the Reynolds case today anyways, I’m taking those two out with our new guest.” Wymack says, he mocks the end of his sentence in a way that makes Neil freeze. It was a playful tease… It was an  _ endearing  _ tease. 

Like something a father would say about his son...

“Oh fuck me.”

As if on cue, all of Neil’s growing hopes of having a normal case flies out the window as Kevin Day comes barging through the opening doors.

“Fuck me too, ” Andrew curses under his breath as Kevin holds his head high and tilts his jacket just the right way so the yellow FBI letters catch the light.

After the entire shit show of the past summer, and Kevin being the one that almost got Andrew killed - as well as his and Kevin’s brief but complicated background, Neil can’t say he’s exactly thrilled to see him again. But, their relationship is on the mend, he’ll admit, without Kevin, he would also probably be in a jail cell, rotting somewhere. Neil knows that Kevin is trying to make up for it, going as far as to return to speak in person with the major heads of the FBI in order to close the Butcher’s case completely - saving Neil from the risk of being exposed.

But wiping Nathaniel Wesninski completely off the map has been a lot harder than it had originally seemed. 

“What the fuck is Kevin doing here,” Seth groans from his seat, scowling at the black haired man as he makes his way to the front of the room, “I thought we were done with this uppity shit.” 

“I’m transferring,” Kevin answers smoothly, “In order to finish closing up the Butcher’s case, I’m needed here with erm-” He pauses, glancing over to where Neil and Andrew sit with blank faces, “...with the help of the officer who helped track the Butcher down.” 

“So this is taking away my most valuable witnesses right now because?” Dan butts in, aiming it at Wymack but of course Kevin answers instead. 

“Because today we are closing down the Butcher’s mansion for good.” 

Neil’s heart sinks, there goes his chance at a normal fucking case again. More shit to do with his past, more shit to do with things that are most definitely  _ not  _ his life as Neil Josten.

“So your bright idea is coming and picking up the Butcher’s son, that, might I remind you, you are hiding from the FBI, to do this?” Allison asks sweetly and Kevin’s eyes almost pop out of his head.

“Don’t say that so loud!” He hisses, spinning around, “I wouldn-”

“Chill Day,” Allison hums, “No one cares enough to listen in on us.” 

Kevin's frown deepens, “You shouldn’t even be here, Reynolds,” he snaps and Allison rolls her eyes before cocking her head to the board.

“Didn’t you hear? My parents are on the shit list instead of me right now, of course I’ll be here. If anyone gets a front seat in watching the destruction of my family and every ounce of money they own - it’s me, Day.” 

Kevin looks like he wants to argue, but Wymack is already pulling on his coat and ushering him away. Neil wonders if their relationship has been going well since Andrew told him that Kevin finally fussed up to being his son. As far as he can tell though from the comment earlier, it’s been going just fine. 

“Allison is also a key witness, Kevin. This isn’t our area of focus anyways so if we could- Minyard, Josten, come on!” 

Blinking out of his thoughts, Neil scowls and attempts to ignore the snickering coming from Allison. In response, Neil flips her off and she sticks her tongue out in return, but even Neil knows it's a front for her own worry as Neil slugs off to his own pool of triggers.

“We should have just stayed in bed," he hisses under his breath to Andrew who is still sipping at his coffee. 

Hazel eyes narrow at him, “Now he admits it.

-

On the ride over, Neil choses to stay silent. 

He peers out of the passenger window as Andrew smoothly drives them back to Neil’s childhood home of nightmares. It's a festering mess that he has been avoiding since the death of his father, and he was hoping if he waited long enough, it just wouldn’t be his problem. No one but Kevin and himself has the keys to the basement and all important information had been cleaned out long before the FBI or the police got the chance to get their hands on it.

Or, well, Neil's pretty sure anyways. 

“We don’t have to go," Andrew says, glancing over to the other’s still form. 

Neil sighs, “Yes, we do." Because otherwise he’ll have to go on his own tonight and he rather be with his friends while he does it. “It’ll be fine.”

“Will it?” 

_ No,  _ Neil thinks immediately but bites his tongue to avoid saying it, opting instead to tap his finger anxiously on the door handle instead. He can feel Andrew glancing over every few moments, but right now Neil picks to ignore that. He doesn’t want to talk about it right now. 

“It has to be,” he chooses as his next words, “It’ll be easier with you there.” 

Andrew hums quietly, before stretching his hand across the console and offering it palm up. Neil takes it gratefully, twining their fingers together and feeling the rough calluses of his palms and the warmth that always seemed to come from Andrew. 

For a moment, Neil lets himself think it's going to be alright.

-

Of course, when they arrive, however, everything goes sour fairly quickly. 

It’s been nearly six months since Neil has properly seen the outside of his family home and the last time he had been planning on brutally murdering his father while dying alongside him so he hadn’t exactly taken the time to rememorize it.

But, like always, it stands ageless in the middle of a silent forest. Brick walls, and smooth stone that lead to the two massive front doors - the endless walkway, a taunt to remind the many people who went inside that they would never make the long trek out again. The flower beds that were once kept up by the maids his father hired, has long since shriveled up and died which does nothing but add to the dreadful feeling the house gives off. 

“You could sell it,” Andrew drawls next to him. They aren’t holding hands anymore, but he’s standing as close to Neil as he can get without touching him. “I’m sure it’s worth something.”

“No," Kevin responds, dropping out of the passenger seat of Wymack’s car. “No one wants to buy a house with a history like that, besides, it’s FBI property now since there is no  _ Nathaniel Wesninski _ alive to inherit it.” 

“Yet here I am anyways,” Neil grumbles, not trying to hide his bitterness. He can already feel the itching beginnings of a panic attack in the corner of his mind.

“This had to be done eventually, I doubt your father would have kept anything important in a place this public. But it’s best we do another sweep, wouldn’t want anyone coming back to double check the rest of my work.” 

Neil doesn’t have it in himself to argue, so instead they walk forward with halting steps to the looming wooden brown doors. He tries not to think about the last time he walked through them, or the countless others before. 

He tries not to listen to the creaking behind him, or Wymack’s quiet curse as he stares up at the massive portraits of Nathan Wesninski dawning the halls.

But it’s the photo that hangs from the double stairways, just under the railing of the overhang from the upper floor it leads to that gets Neil the most. 

It’s the only portrait his father had done of the entire family, and the only one he kept displayed to keep appearances of a mourning father to the press. He can still remember the hours his father kept him standing there, with a hand clamping down on his shoulder as a warning of what would come if he fucked something up. His mother’s gaunt face is on his left, her other hand also clasped with just as much pressure in a silent plead for him to also not fuck this up. 

She’s smiling though, so is Nathaniel, but there is no light in their eyes and he wonders if the artist did it on purpose. His father however, looks like a farmer showing off his best crops to the world, the glint in his eyes never did go away until he died. 

“Abram,” Andrew whispers, the change of his name shocks Neil back into the presence as he feels a strong hand curl around his neck, “Don’t go there.” 

He knows that he’s right, but it’s hard not too when both Wymack and Kevin are mirroring Neil’s expression. 

“Fuck me,” Wymack says softly, before his eyes snap back down to lock on Neil. He wonders if he’s comparing how they look, maybe trying to see how accurate the artist translated the scar on his collarbone. “How old were you?” he asks instead.

Neil shrugs, “Nine, maybe? I don’t know.” 

“Nor is it important,” Andrew adds, Neil doesn’t bother to look to see if the two are now having a stare off. He doesn’t want another reminder that everyone here knows he’s weak.

Kevin however, breaks away without a word, shaking his head as he pulls a ring of keys from his pocket. Instantly, Neil recognizes each one and he has to force himself to breathe, he’d spent so long memorizing each and every key as a kid and what doors they unlocked - now Kevin has them, even completed with their own little paper labels. 

“I say we start with the bedrooms and then move on from there. Basement will be the last.” 

_ Basement.  _

Great. Neil thinks bitterly,  _ I’m really not getting out of this easy am I. _

Judging by the anger flickering across Andrew’s face, he agrees. 

Either way, both of them follow Kevin up one side of the stairs, and begin their begrudged tour of Neil’s traumatic childhood. 

For the most part, none of the upper floors have anything worth while. Kevin already said the FBI had done a sweep of everything anyways, so all that's left is dusty furniture and vicious memoires for Neil to be reminded of. 

It’s as they kick his childhood room’s closet open that he has his first slip up.

He jumps back, slamming into Andrew’s chest whose hands quickly fly up to grab his arms. 

“Neil?” he asks, but the only thing Neil can manage is a wordless shake of his head. It’s stupid really, the thing bothering him, but he can’t seem to catch his breath. 

There on the floor is the same teddy bear that his mother used to show Nathaniel how to slit a person’s throat in the most effective way -

No, no it was her showing him how to slit  _ her  _ throat painlessly, when the time came. 

_ Her bones are still in the backyard.  _

A wave a nasura comes over him and Neil can’t take it anymore, he’s pushing past Andrew, Kevin and Wymack and making for the first bathroom he can find - falling to the tile floors and scampering over to the toilet before the first heave wracks his body. 

At least while vomiting, he’s distracted from the replaying of his mother’s death, but now he can’t hide how much this is affecting him.

Outside he can hear Andrew arguing with Kevin, their voices clipped and rising by the moment with anger. 

“It should have been taken for evidence, I don’t know why they wouldn’t-” That’s Kevin, the bitterness is flowing through openly as he keeps getting cut off by a pissed off Andrew.

“Why are we even here then Kevin? Why the fuck would you drag Neil here of all people?” 

“He’s the only person alive that knows this place! I know that we haven’t been able to find all the rooms, Andrew. That’s why I’m  _ here.  _ To find whatever else this fucking place is hiding still.” 

“Fuck you,” Andrew snaps, and then Neil can hear the sound of thick boots on the floor as they start making their way to the bathroom. Andrew knocks once before opening the door, blond brows drawn up slightly to give away his concern. 

“Do you want to be alone?” Andrew asks, and Neil shakes his head weakly, reaching up to flush the evidence of his sick away. 

At the sight of Neil’s acceptance, Andrew comes over without hesitance, leaning down to be at Neil’s level and opening one arm in a silent offer which Neil takes happily. Leaning over and hiding half of his face into Andrew’s chest and letting the other man hold him lightly. 

“We can leave right now,” Andrew murmurs into the top of his head but Neil still shakes his head weakly. 

“No, I heard Kevin. He’s right, there is another room the FBI wouldn’t have been able to find - even with the blueprints of the house. We need to destroy whatever else is in there in case someone does figure it out and there’s something valuable enough to lead them to me.” 

Neil can tell Andrew wants to argue, but thankfully he stays silent and just holds Neil carefully to his chest; they don’t do stuff like this anywhere in public, but he guesses that this doesn’t really count as that and lets himself soak up the comfort. At least for now, some of the demons stay at bay. 

But before they can leave, Neil needs to tell Andrew one more thing. 

“They’re here, in the backyard,” he croaks, fighting past the blockades in his throat, “My mother’s bones, I buried them back there.”

Andrew stills, Neil can feel his breath halt in his chest before he is suddenly reaching a hand up to hold Neil’s face. The firm pressure is almost desperate, as if he’s trying to block Neil from the outside world. Still, Neil melts into it just the same, feeling Andrew nod his head above him. 

“Okay.” 

And that’s all he says and that’s all Neil really needs him to say right now anyways. 

-

Once Neil collects himself, they begin their trip downwards. He can feel both Kevin and Wymack staring at his back as he waves for them to follow; he won’t bother explaining it, though won’t explain anything, he doesn’t have it in him to do so. Instead, he decides to take the quickest route to get out and finds himself standing before the same lonely trial of stairs down to the large metal door. He clenches his fists tightly at his sides and feels his nails bite into his skin, it’s a welcome distraction as he listens to Kevin rattle the keys to search for the correct one. 

“There’s another doorway down here, it’s the only place I know of that wouldn’t have been on the blueprints,” he says, watching Kevin pause on the stairwell, probably realizing that Neil had easily overheard him. 

“What’s down there?” he asks instead. 

“Dunno, I avoided being down here as much as I could. I wasn’t in any rush to find out what was on the level below this.” 

Kevin slides the key into the lock and everyone but Andrew misses the shiver that runs through his body at the sound. “Fair enough,” the raven haired man mumbles and then he swings open the metal door.

It’s the smell of disinfectant that hits him first.

Obviously, the blood and bodies had to be cleaned up after Neil had been taken to the hospital. He never asked Andrew who took them, or what really happened but he should have known the place would’ve been cleaned. It’s so similar to how the basement had smelled after his father had finished and sent Lola down to clean up his mess - Neil feels his mind begin slipping again but Andrew is only a step behind him. 

“Come on, let’s get this over with,” Andrew insists, and Neil can’t help agreeing.

The metal table is still pushed into the corner of the room, but all of the knives and weapons are gone. Even the straps that used to be attached to the table have been removed and it makes it look significantly less threatening - he wonders if the FBI ever did manage to scrooge up any hint of his DNA that would have been removed from the years he spent strapped to it. 

The cell in the corner is open, he hears Wymack curse again as they turn to look at it. Neil can barely remember if he had spent much time in there, that was more for other people - snitches. Neil was still the Butcher’s son so he had the honour of being locked to a steel table instead. 

“Neil,” Kevin breaks in, looking paler by the minute, “Where’s the doorway?” 

Breaking from his thoughts, Neil shook his head.  _ Right,  _ the doorway, that was important. 

“Well, if I remember correctly…” He trails off, stalking towards the three sealed cabinets his father used to use to hide his shotguns. The locks are cut, still hanging loosely from the doors and Neil tosses it to the side. 

The doors squeal open, the first reason why Neil never tried to touch this spot, the only times he ever saw it used was when he was bleeding out on the table. Without fail, every time his father or one of his people finished their work on him, his father would send someone to the closet.   


He trials his fingers against the wall, trying to find some give or a crook he could snag his fingers into but he comes up short. Huffing, he tries again but puts more of his weight into it, ignoring the way the shelf groans in protest or the way a quiet noise of desperation slips past his lips - he feels as if he was suffocating here, he needs to get out, he cannot stand being here any longer because he can feel his father’s eyes boring into him. He can hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs, the sound of the knife gliding along metal as it crawls closer to him, he can hear ithecanhearithecanhearith-

“The floor,” Andrew’s voice suddenly appears at his side, warm fingers brushing his skin lightly as the blond crouched beside him, “The paneling is off.” 

Neil glances down and - sure enough, the paneling is off by an inch. Whoever must’ve done that was probably killed. 

Leaning down, Neil helps Andrew shove and pop the wood out of a latch and push it open. Dust puffs around them and Neil wrinkles his nose, staring at the now opened black hole with only one latter staircase propped against its side.

“Well, have fun, Day,” Andrew says, jumping to his feet and clasping the FBI agent on the back. 

“Is it safe?” Wymack asks, he sneaks forward to glance down the hole, lips tugging into a frown. 

Kevin unzips his jacket and shrugs it off, letting it pool onto the floor. “I’ll be fine, just let me see what’s down there and I’ll be back up in a second.”

It's clear that Wymack still isn't a fan of the idea, eyeing Kevin whirly before sighing, “You have your gun?”

“What’s he gonna do? Shoot some mice?” Andrew grumbles but Wymack ignores him. 

“Kevin?”

Kevin shifts to the side so Wymack can see the pistol holstered to his belt, “Yes, I do, I’ll be up in a minute. Hopefully. Neil, shine a light down on me,” he finishes, before passing his phone over to Neil and with that he begins his slow descent, having to shift awkwardly to fit, avoiding the floor board. 

Neil doesn’t move from his spot on the floor, fumbling to turn on the light of Kevin’s phone and tries to light the pathway but he can already tell he’s shaking too much to hold it steady. No one comments on it but Neil knows they can see it- 

It only takes a second for Wymack to switch on the flashlight from his belt and take over Neil’s position with a gruff smile and nod to Andrew. Neil takes it. He doesn’t have it in him right now to pretend to be brave. 

For some reason, waiting for Kevin to come back up is stressful enough though to keep Neil off the edge of another panic attack. He can hear the few confirming shouts Kevin hollers up to them, or the sound of scuffling but in the end it seems like his father never kept anything deadly down there after all.

“Just lots of binders,” Kevin says, “I think a lot of it has to do with his money laundering and outside business....wait-” 

Something unpleasant shifts in Neil’s stomach.

“Um, okay, one second. I’m bringing this up,” 

There’s shuffling and cursing as Kevin begins passing stuff up to Wymack. The moment the first binder hits the ground Neil freezes. 

Wymack is already opening it, Kevin is hopping to his feet to look at it as well and Neil wants to open his mouth and yell at them to stop. His body has mended itself to the ground as he stares at the books laying there - a memory is trying to shove its way through but he isn’t sure if he can handle it.

It’s too late to stop them anyways because Wymack has flipped the books open, laid one eye on the pages inside and snapped it closed with a curse. 

“What?” Kevin is saying, clambering up, “What is it?” 

“Fuck, no. No, we are not doing this to you,” Wymack is saying instead, nodding to Andrew to go and grab Neil but he pushes the offered hand away.

“What is it?” Neil asks.

“It isn’t important Neil, this isn’t something you-”

Neil scrambles across the ground and grabs the red binder anyways, flipping open to a random point in the pages and he lands on an image of himself - he’s sixteen, or so he thinks, his hair is shaggier at this point and his face sunken in. Neil can barely remember these years, the ones where he completely immersed himself into his father’s work - the scar on his brow is newly formed. Next to his face are small notes written by a stranger, of course his father couldn’t be bothered to put this much effort into anything regarding Nathaniel, but instead paid someone to keep tabs on him. There's a small list under the notes with names that Neil spends most nights trying to forget. 

The people he’s killed. 

With shaking hands, he flips to the front of the book and sees what Wymack must’ve. He’s thirteen in the picture, it’s taken of him slumped against the metal table that lingers just beyond his view, in the photo his hands are covered in blood and his face is gaunt - and the only name beside it is  _ Mary Wenesinski. _

He guesses his father took a photo after he killed her. Or someone did. 

“Neil.” It’s Kevin speaking, in front of him, he’s carrying a load of binders, with Wymack behind him as well. “We have all them, let's go.” 

When he glances back to the floor, the red binder is gone and what’s left is Andrew’s combat boots. He looks up, meeting dark hazel eyes that glow with a low understanding as Andrew offers out a hand.

“Come on,” he says, and Neil takes it.

-

They burn it all. 

Kevin drops the binders in the middle of the driveway with Wymack, neither of them have said a single word as they left the mansion. He waits for Wymack to ask why that name was next to his photo or why there was a photo like that in the first place.

But they don’t. 

He wonders how much Kevin had seen, he wonders what _he_ would’ve seen if he had looked longer through the book.

Andrew is hauling lighter fluid out of the back of Wymack’s truck, Neil doesn’t bother asking if Kevin had planned something like this would happen, he doesn’t bother asking why they can douse valuable information to have it burnt away. 

Andrew flicks on his lighter, coming over to stand behind Neil before handing it over to him. 

“I have a new one,” Andrew says instead of anything else of substance. 

Neil’s hands tremble, his breath catching once, before he locks eyes with Kevin from across the pile and the taller man nods. 

A moment of understanding passes between them - burning their pasts, he supposes, is something they would have in common.

Neil throws the lighter onto the pile and watches it go up in flames.

He watches, transfixed as the smoke comes first, curling into the air with the distinct smell of burning plastic. Andrew is a warm support beside him, the light of the flames dancing off of his hazel gaze as it turns on Neil. 

He isn’t sure why, but he stands there staring at the burning fire until it becomes nothing but snoot and ash on the pavement. For once the cover of trees are useful to avoid any neighbours questioning the bloom of black smoke or the lingering stench left behind. 

Kevin pauses at his side when the group finally begins to depart, he glances over with a hesitant look in his eyes. Neil matches him with a shaky nod of his head.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. It’s the only thing he can think to give, even if it can never truly show how much it means to him.

“It’s the least we can do,” Kevin reaches out a hand and clasps it gently onto his shoulder, “After everything you’ve done.” 

With that, he walks away to Wymack who is waiting at his truck. The older man also catches Neil’s eye, returning a nod.

“Take the rest of the day off,” he yells, “Not that you didn’t already do that earlier.” 

“I wasn’t planning on going back anyways,” Andrew grins, moving for the Maserati, “Neil thinks we’re gonna get fired but I know you’d all suck without me.”

Wymack huffs, “You just like to make my life a hell don’t you, Minyard?” 

“Sure do, Chief.”

Neil feels the twitch of what could’ve been a smile pull at his lips, it’s a nice reassurance anyways. So he begins his walk away from the haunting home behind him, with the echo of blood still lingering in its foundations and moves to Andrew waiting in the Maserati. Hand outstretched with his own pair of black ray bans hanging from his finger. 

“Coming?”

-

Andrew doesn’t drive them home today, instead he drives them to a quiet lookout point at the top of some small hill. It’s far away from his childhood home, but the forest still stretches around them, giving them some semblance of privacy. 

“What are we doing out here?” Neil asks, pulling off his sunglasses so he can stare at Andrew better.

The other shrugs, putting the car in park as he too throws his shades onto the dashboard. 

“I used to come up here a lot, it was a good place just to think sometimes.” 

“About?”

Andrew shrugs again, “Life, work, you, sometimes.” 

Neil can’t help it, he grins. “Oh? Anything important?”

“Mmm, no. Probably about whether or not I should kiss you or punch you. The usual.”

He laughs, turning his body to face Andrew more, pressing his face into the back of his seat. “You make up your mind?”

Andrew huffs at him, and then answers by reaching across and cupping the back of Neil’s neck to bring him into a kiss. It’s soft, and Neil melts into it. A broken noise slips out of him, and he feels a subtle wave in his emotions when Andrew cups his cheek.

They part, but Andrew doesn’t move far and Neil is more than grateful for it. 

“Are you okay?” Andrew asks, it’s a rare question for him to say but Neil guesses the day warrants it. 

Though he isn’t sure how to even answer that. Something in his chest is still trembling from the day, with memories lurking just out of view every moment he’s left alone too long with his thoughts. 

He reaches a stray hand up and presses it to Andrew’s. The warmth of it is another steady reassurance that somehow makes the ache worsen in his chest - it’s a reminder of what he has the privilege of having now, a reminder of how  _ good  _ things are and how much it would kill him to lose it.

“I don’t know,” Neil finally admits quietly, “I just don’t want to think about it anymore right now, I’ve already spent too long feeling this.” 

A soft thumb swipes under his eyes as Andrew nods, “Okay,” he murmurs, “we don’t have to talk about it then.”

Neil smiles, to let Andrew know he’s grateful for it. He reaches his other hand up and hooks it loosely into the collar of his black shirt. Andrew doesn’t say anything about it, instead shifting closer and bringing Neil into another soft kiss.

Neil’s heart hurts at the first touch of his lips, and he’s falling forward, desperate to bury himself into the blanket of Andrew’s safety. 

The sun is setting behind them, the golden rays spilling through the windshield and colour Neil’s eyelids a bright red, maybe he should be watching the sunset, that was probably what Andrew had brought them here to do. But something about it today reminds him of another night six months ago when the only safety they could find was in eachother's bodies. 

Andrew pulls away, only going as far as to press his forehead against Neil’s. 

“Do you want me to distract you?” Andrew asks, he doesn’t ask it in a teasing way or makes his words laced with any connotations. It was just a genuine question and Neil nods. 

“Come on then.” 

Andrew clicks open his door and slips out of the car before opening the doors to the back seat and slipping inside. 

He raises an eyebrow at Neil when he notices him staring over his seat, “Well, are you coming?” 

Probably less than elegantly, does Neil crawl over the centre console to bring himself into Andrew’s waiting arms. He hears Andrew's noises of displeasure at Neil’s Converse scuffing onto the black leather and his hands curls around Neil’s shoulders to help finish the job.

“I literally just showed you a respectable way to get back here and you still find the time to be an absolute heathen,” he gripes and Neil huffs a laugh, letting Andrew readjust their position so his head is resting on the glass with one leg sprawled along the seats and the other hanging off to give room for Neil’s body to lay between.

Neil let’s the back of his head lay against Andrew’s chest, trying to squirm far enough up to hide into his neck. Andrew wraps one arm around his shoulder to bring him on his side and kisses his forehead.

“Can I make you feel good?” Andrew asks quietly, and Neil wonders if Andrew had been thinking about their first night together too when the sun had started setting. He knows that right now isn’t about sex, it’s never really been that way for them - sure, sometimes they have days were both of them are consumed with lust and need to get their hands on the other’s body. 

But there are also days like this, the need to just feel the other and their steady hands. To keep Neil out of his head on bad days and in the present - a way to be close with Andrew, to let them speak without ever having to open their months.

Neil nods his head, “Yeah.”

Andrew holds Neil steady and close against his chest as he sneaks one hand down Neil’s front and begins undoing his belt. They kiss slowly, Andrew making sure to put a gentle force with each swipe of his tongue to remind Neil that he’s cherished, that he’s wanted, that he’s needed. 

Quick hands pull Neil from his pants, and Andrew begins a slow pace, carefully bringing Neil up the hill. Neil groans quietly at the contact, eyes fluttering as Andrew hums lowly in his chest. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs, “you’re so good for me Neil.” 

“ _ Andrew,”  _ Neil gasps, his body instantly lighting up at the words as Andrew kisses the side of his face. He can feel the bastard smiling just slightly, the subtle quirk to those rosey red fucking lips as he gazes down at Neil. 

_ God _ , Neil buries himself into Andrew’s neck, hands convulsing when the other keeps the same steady pace. Everything that happened today has completely melted away and the only thing there is now is Andrew. Andrew, who wants to do this, wants to hold him and take care of him and make him feel good when he had a shitty fucking day. 

He can feel the sun warm his skin, but he doesn’t open his eyes. Letting himself groan and sigh into Andrew as he finally begins moving his hand faster.

“You are fucking beautiful Neil,” Andrew whispers into his ear, “You always look so unreal like this.” 

He doesn’t know what to even say to that, he doesn’t know if he even could say anything. He practically whimpers and Andrew uses his free hand to comb back the auburn curls falling into his face.

“Andrew, fuck,” he gasps.

“I got you,” Andrew whispers, kissing his cheek, “I got you Neil, let me take care of you.” 

That’s what does Neil in. His orgasm isn’t explosive like it is sometimes, but instead he feels the rush shiver through him, the ache in his heart turns into a calming fire as Andrew brings him down just as carefully.

“I got you, I got you,” Andrew keeps murmuring into his ear and Neil can’t help the desperate noise that leaves him. Because that’s all he needs, it’s all he’ll ever need. 

He stretches a hand up and turns his head to look up at Andrew, who kisses his palm and tucks it against his cheek. Even if Neil didn't touched him, he’s flushed, cheeks a deep red and breath coming out slightly uneven. 

Andrew trails a lone finger down the scars marding him, hazel eyes soft as the light seeping in has turned to darkening purple. 

“I got you,” he repeats and Neil smiles - because he knows. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the sex scene came across as something more focused in intimacy than just being smutty. I've always been a firm believer that sex goes a lot deeper than just the physical and I think andreil is a relationship that really does show this.
> 
> All kudos and comments are so appreciated! I absolutely love hearing your guys thoughts!! we're getting some 'new' faces next chapter ;)
> 
> special thanks to my beta reader Nora again for reading over this <3
> 
> thank you for reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! It's great to be back with my boys. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are much appreciate! Let me know what you guys think so far :)
> 
> Come yell at me on my twitter and to see my shit of the boys, [here](https://twitter.com/kanekicure)


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